Make It Better
by xXShadowWalkerXx
Summary: Nikita is shot and Michael wants revenge. Major character death. One-Shot.


**I do not own Nikita or any of the characters. I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Sorry it is so sad and short!**

The rain was pouring down out of the jet black sky as Michael rounded the corner at a sprint. They had planned on meeting for dinner, but Michael had run late because of a business meeting that had run over. He stopped running when he reached the restaurant, but Nikita wasn't there. He took the ring out of his pocket and glared at it.

Suddenly, he heard a woman scream. 'Nikita,' was all Michael thought before bolting in the general direction of the sound. He ran as fast as he could to the man standing over his soon-to-be-fiance lying in the alley.

"Hey!" Michael yelled at the man.

The man spun around at the yell and at the sight of him, dropped his smoking gun and ran away.

"Not this. Not now," Michael said as he knelt by Nikita's head. She wasn't okay. Michael could see the blood pouring out of a wound on her chest.

"Michael? Make it better. Please. I don't want to die," Nikita begged with the little strength she had left.

He kissed her lips. "Nikita, stay with me. You will be fine. You're not going to die. I promise. I'm not losing you," He said as he held her icy hand with one of his and called 911 with the other.

"My girlfriend was just shot. I need an ambulance," He said frantically into the phone.

He hung up. "The ambulance is on its way. Can you hold on for just a little longer? Please love, do it for me. Hold on just a few more minutes. I know you can do it," Michael continued to talk, as he put his hand over the wound to try to stop the bleeding.

"Michael, I love you," Nikita said, as her eyes closed.

"I love you too. I love you so much. Please don't give up. Just a bit longer," He begged, with tears streaming down his face.

It was too late. She died as he held her in his arms. He let out a sob as the sirens approached. They were too late. The love of his life was dead. The sobs racked his body, as he held her rocking back and forth. The rain continued to pour as he let the tears stream down. Her body was growing cold in his arms.

The paramedics came and one simply sighed at the sight in front of him. The other couldn't help the tear that leaked out of her eye. It was a heartbreaking sight. A dead girl in the arms of her broken boyfriend. Together the paramedics tried to get the girl out of his arms, but he wouldn't let her go.

"No! You can't take her away from me!" Michael cried as he tried to keep a hold on Nikita.

"Sir, she's gone," One of the medics said.

At that, Michael's grip relaxed and he slumped forward. "She's gone," He whispered. The love of his life was gone and he convulsed into more tears.

Before the police got there, Michael noticed the gun. He felt the anger boil up inside him at the sight of the thing that had taken his lover away from him. Mechanically, he stood up and picked up the gun. He will avenge his lover tonight. It doesn't matter if it kills him, or even if he goes to jail. He has nothing left to live for.

Michael walks away from the scene of the crime. He will find HIM tonight. Michael spent hours looking for the killer, his hands shaking with rage. The rage that filled him inside and out. Finally, Michael found him. He was sitting on a park bench, completely still.

He crept up behind him and shoved the gun flush against the back of the man's head. The man doesn't even flinch.

"I knew you would find me tonight." The man says calmly.

"This is for Nikita." Michael said just as calmly as he pulled the trigger.

The shot rang through the park as the stranger's body slumped forward. The birds in the trees squawked and flew away. Michael could already hear the police sirens coming. He would just sit here and wait.

The extremely confused police took in the scene that lay before them. A dead man lay beside the park bench with another man sitting on the bench holding the gun.

"I did it. I killed him. Take me in." Michael said in a dead voice. There was no care left in him.

The cops took him in and during the next few weeks, Michael was convicted of one count of manslaughter. He took it without comment. He was sentenced for 25 to life. Nobody knew why the man had killed Nikita. In Michael's mind, his killing was justice.

Michael would lay in his cell, staring at the ceiling. Nikita was never far from his head. She would have hated what he had done for her, but he didn't care. He had avenged her murder. Michael didn't regret what he did for one second.

When Michael got out, he was forty-nine. Nikita was still on his mind. He laid beside her grave one last time. He pictured what their lives could have been like for the millionth time. He put the same gun to his head. The gun that had killed both Nikita and the man who had killed Nikita. It was only fitting that his was how he died. As he pulled the trigger, a tear rolled down his face. His body fell on Nikita's grave. Blood made a pool around Michael's lifeless body. An engagement ring rolled out of his jacket pocket and landed beside Nikita's gravestone. Engraved in the engagement ring, it said "Forever".


End file.
